From A to Z
by GamerWolf156
Summary: Sherlock finds a young mind quite like his own. P.s The cover image says 'could you solve a crime like Sherlock Holmes'
1. Chapter 1

The tall curly haired man watches the girl from the side line his coat collar pulled up around his neck to shield him from the wind and rain. His flatmate said he did this to 'look cool', but the man was to smart to worry about looking good. He deducted the girl was young about 16 however she could be younger. She was small for her age, but instead of moaning she used it to her advantage, just like now as she dodged punches from the overweight man who had obvious difficulties keeping up with his victim. There was something about the girl she was smart, he thought, not as smart as him at his age, but smart enough to get noticed and unwanted attention. And smart enought to have been sort out by his enemy. She needed protection and tutoring, and that's just what he would give her.

I duck as the man's fat fist swerves at my head. He misses. I stay low swaying to the side as his right hook attacks thin air. My fist connects with his abdomen. He kneels over in pain, his head beaded with sweat. I circle round to his back, both arms in the air I drop them down using gravity to my advantage. His back cracks as he finds himself on the floor. Two swift kicks to the head and he's out cold. The men surrounding us stop cheering. After all you were expected to loose. I flick my coat and turn the collar up against the wind, the rain runs down my face. I turn and leave the vultures as they run in to aid their fallen pack member.

"Cara get the hell up." My head pounds as my mother yells up the stairs. Turns out some of them late night punches did connect. Memories piece together as I remember the past six hours of 'sleep' I hadn't gotten. I looked like hell; black bags under my eyes, pale as Satan himself. As I stepped out of bed my coat shuffled under me. Shit. I was fully dressed in black jeans and jumper and my long duffel coat that ran down past my knees and had a collar that hid my face from view. The stairs creaked. Double shit. "Dont make me come in their young lady." I ran to my wardrobe pulling off my coat and jumper while attaching myself to a green lace tank top and hoodie; my mum burst through the door not paying any attention to my personal privacy. "Cara" she crys in horror. Oh no not like this cruel world. "what have I told you about wearing your shoes in the house" I look down in relief Seeing my black biker boot. Thank god all mighty. "Get them off now and get out of my sight" she wimpered, her cream carpets ruined by a mass of brown smudges. I leave the house quickly, not wanting anymore family confrontations.

I head for school using the bus. I loath public transport with all its people and noise. But I'm to young to drive, at only 14 many would call me one of the smartest people they know and often believe me to be much older then I am. My class mates are not impressed with my imperial intellect and often judge me on the way I talk or act around them, jeering at me and taunting me. Pricks. I hate them all. When I arive at school I go to the bathroom to relieve my boredom. Taking out my pen knife I make a incision just above a faint white scar and wait as the gooey red leaves me. I clean up and head for my form room my tutor greets with the normal 'hello, how are you' I nod my hello but never answer the question. Opening up means sharing emotions. I don't have any. Normally this behaviour of mine is tolerated and she goes about her daily buisness, unfortunately today everything changed. I hate change.

"Cara please come talk outside" she asked rather then told me. I ignored her setteling down at my seat. The room was almost empty only a few early male students were hanging around in a corner chatting. They had looked over when miss had asked for me to go outside. Noisey buggers. She came over kneeling next to me so her face was next to mine. "Please Cara. Outside." Her arm reached out to touch my shoulder. I flinched. She stood back desperate. Before leaving. I sighed remembering the blood, before overhearing the boys whispers. Apparently she planned to talk to me whether I wanted to or not. Shit.

 **A/N: Hope you like this new story, will be posting new stuff every Monday. Don't worry Elm 13 will be updated on Saturday as per normal-ish time.**


	2. Chapter 2

Moments later the bell rang and students piled into the room filling every seat. The second form tutor came in acknologing my presense with a confused glare. Outside I saw the first form tutor returning with the head of year. She beconed me from the door window. I looked around seeing no escape. I stood grabed my bags and left the room.

Sitting in a quiet room with the two teachers sat opposite me, the talking began. "Cara we want you to answer honestly. How are you." I ingnored them both. Then head of year 'Mr Right' started talking gently and calmly in soft tones after my form tutors failed attempts.  
"Cara we know it's difficult for you, getting over the loss of both parents seems unbarable, and now living in foster care.. we just want to know your ok." My parents have been dead for over a month now my sisters and i were split up in foster care. He reaches out to touch my shaking hands. I flinch back. But he holds my arm steady while lifting my sleave up to reveal rows of faint white scars layering my skin. I close my eyes. As my Head of year squeezes my hands in reassurances. "Your going to be fine... we've got some people here to see you" I sigh and contemplate how my mum would react to all this. I know she's dead. But she still there waking me up in the morning bursting in a telling me off, just like the good old days. Wow maybe I'm not as smart as people think, more mad.

As the two men enter the room, I realise I recognize them from the fight last night, was I being followed. The tall man I recognised had dark curley hair that floped around his eyes, his pale skin and dark eyes did wonder for his sharp cheekbones and long face. He was quite a picture. But the other man was plain blond hair Brown eyes short compaired to his companion, he was as normal as could be. He had tan lines round his hands barley noticable by his nitted jumper. He also stood straight as if to attention. He was obviously a army man fresh out of afganistan or Iraq. Very difficult to tell which.

The men ushered my tutor and head of year out telling them they wished to speak with me alone. I gathered they were sychiatrists here to test my stability and ask me about my self inflicted wounds. "Cara is it." The tall man pointed out rather then asked. I didn't answer it obviously wasn't a question. The blond man smiled. I trusted him. The tall man he was never capable of trust or worthy of having it. Although his companion seemingly gave him bucket loads. Strange. "My name is Sherlock Holmes" he stated. I nodded in response. And looked at the other man waiting for his introduction. He looked at Sherlock and waited for his approving nod before speaking.

"John Watson" he said gently and reached out his hand. I stood and shook it. And unusual gesture pointing me even further into the army deduction.

"Do I call you sir or captin Watson" I questioned. He looked at me stunned so I carefully pulled up his sleave to reveal his tan line. "Your tan line is below your wrist showing you've been abroad lately but not on holiday. Also your stance is incredibly staight and your handshake and gesture are all very military based. So do I call you sir of captin Watson?" John stared at Sherlock stunned howerver Sherlock himself looked more impressed then suprised. He was definitely following me.

"Very impressive Cara." Sherlock justured to my deductive skills. I nodded my gratitude. "We are not here as your psychiatrists as your teachers believe but we do wish to talk to you about your deductive tallents, I can't say much here but you will have obviously have seen me in the news, I am the consulting detective that works for New Scotland Yard NSY for short." I shook my head. He looked at me confused. My head of year suddenly burst through the door. Sherlock jumped into action. "...So Cara you understand this can't continue. We will have continued talks at my office to keep your safty up to check. We will also talk more frequently about your arms... here have my card come to my office any time you feel like talking." The card read '221b Baker Street.'

 **A/N: I didn't think the story made much sense so I wrote up the next few chapters, I'll try to make it flow and sorry for giving this story such a slow start, don't forget to review and follow to read my first fic Elm 13. -GamerWolf156**


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock and John sat opposite each other in their armchairs. John nursed his cup of tea in his arms while watching Sherlock in his deductive pose, hands steepled against his chin. "Sherlock..." John cursed "Have you been listening to a word I said." Sherlock murmured a reply before locking eyes with John.

"I followed the girl last night" he spoke the words with such grace.

"You did what...who?" John puzzled

"Cara the girl we met today with the deductive skills. The one Moriarty is after." Sherlock ranted in high speed Sherlock fashion. "Keep up John... She got into quite a fight, beat a man twice my size with just a few punches, she'd give your army training a run for its money. She's only 14, yet she's so strong in will and mind. Why an earth would she hurt herself on purpose." Sherlock ranted deduction style.

"Maybe she's just bored." John said going back to his cup of tea.

"Oh John that's the smartest thing you said all year. Of cause she's bored. With a Mind like that no wonder." John was shocked had Sherlock just praised him. "We will have to get her with us on a case. I've got the perfect one. A woman murdered with a garden fork. That'll do the trick."

"Sherlock she's 14 years old. She dosnt want to see a woman murdered with a gar... I don't want to see a woman murdered with a garden fork."

"She'll be fine it's nothing like what I used to do at that age. Besides it's not like I'm going to get her addicted to cocaine."

"What the bloody hell..." but Sherlock was gone. Back in his mind palace, and John knew they was nothing he could do to get him out of it.

As I walked back to my foster parents home I wondered how much they knew. I didn't want to have to explain myself to them especially not Dexter my foster 'dad'. I got to my foster parents house I stood outside, it was plane and had three bedrooms a bathroom a kitchen and a living room. As I knocked on the door I saw silhouettes of people at the door. Nora my foster 'mum' answered. She'd been crying. You could tell because her eyes were red and puffy and her cheeks were staind with tears. Dexter stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders. "Cara... we need to talk" he said. I followed them to the kitchen. "We got a call today from your head of year. He said he and your form tutor had discovered scars on your arms. Please show us" I rolled up my sleeves on both arms 14 in total. "Why do you do it." I don't answer. The answers stupid anyway. "Cara we need to know so we can help you." Dexter reaches out and touches my shoulder. I flinch back. He frowns. "You have to trust us." Tears roll down my face. Dexter and Nora look at each other. I haven't ever cried in front of them. Not even when talking about my parents. Nora comes round and kneels next to me.

"Please Cara."

"I want to talk to my psychiatrists." I sob.

"Ok" she whispered gently "I'll give you a lift."

I stood outside Baker Street looking at the door. I still had tears stained on my cheeks, I rubbed them furiously. The door was black with a gold wonky horse shoe style knocker. The golden numbers read '221b'. I decided to knock, three loud knocks on the door. A old woman answered.

"Hello dear, are you lost" she asked kindly. ' I saw John running down the steep stairs behing her.

"No Mrs Hudson she is here to see Sherlock."

"A bit young isn't she" Mrs Hudson reported while walking off.

"Hello" John said looking down at me smiling genualy "come in." I stepped into the long corridor.  
"Sherlock is upstairs." John pointed up the steep steps that led to 221b and 221a. I followed him cautiously up before been interupted by Sherlock.

"Hello Miss Light," he said waiting for us at the top of the stairs.

"Hi Sherlock." I sighed. I was definitely going to have to open up now. John nudged me forward into the small living room. I was surprised to find test tubes and science equipment piled onto every square inch of the kitchen table. And even more suprised to find the yellow smile face spray painted on the wall, where bullet holes pertruded from the wall paper. And was that a human skull? 


	4. Chapter 4

"So cara why do you cut yourself?" Sherlock asked. Straight to the point as usuall, I sighed.

"Why did you become a consulting detective?" I asked

"Well..." Sherlock replied. I was suprised I didn't expect him to answer my question before I answered his. "When I was young I was tourmented for my smart deductions of people. And that's what I was best at, deductions. So I started work as the first ever consulting detective, I made up the job. After all dead people can't torment you. They are dead. Now answer my question."

"I'm bored" I shrug

"Excellent" Sherlock replied "right then grab your coat were leaving."

"What" I squawk "I can't go home. They'll want answers. And I don't think the one I gave you was quite what they expect." John gave me a sympathetic look

"I never said you were going home" Sherlock said blankly. "We are all going to the NSY crime seen."

As we got into the cab Sherlock picked up his phone and started ringing Detective Inspector Lestrade asking about a case of some sorts.

Once we pulled up outside A old building, which was blinded by blue and red flashing cop cars. I started to wonder what I'd got myself into. Sherlock and John jumped out of the cab, I followed suit, almost bumping into a tall strange looking man with dark hair and a agrivated glare. "What the he'll are you doing here, child" he patronized. I saw strate through him. Middle aged, OCD, immaculate, wife and kids, cheating on her with a colleague. I saw Sherlock and John turn to help.

"I could ask you the same question, sir, cheating on your wife must cross some kind of law, especially when done with a work colleague." Sherlock John and the strange man stared at me before Sherlock laughed for the first time ever since I met him, John also chuckled helplessly. The strange man looked at me rage glaring down.

"Leave her Anderson she's got you there." Sherlock grinned, infuriating the man even more.

"Why the bloody hell have you brought a child to a crime scene, Sherlock she will tamper with all the evidence."

"She just showed you why. She's got the deductive skills of Sherlock Holmes." John mused. Anderson huffed admitting defeat and walked away without another word.

As we walked up towards the old building door we were met by a young woman with dark skin and hair who spoke into her walky-talky alerting the others that the 'freak' was here. I think she ment Sherlock. She gave me a funny look standing in front of the door and blocking my entrance, but Sherlock ushered me in as me and John turned to put on protective clothes Sherlock ran up the stairs not waiting for John. When we appeared at the top Sherlock was already making deductive comments throwing his words backwards and forwards without anyone listening, I however clung onto every word amazed at his swift mind. The dead girl in front of us was young. 20-30 years old sorting pink clothing from head to toe, obviously some kind of reporter someone who had to stand out. She was wet so wherever she had come from it had been raining do she must have travled from outside London. Her jewellery was clean apart from her wedding ring she took it off loads because the inside was cleaner then the outside. Must have been having a string of affairs because it's harder to lie about just one.

"Cara. Cara." Sherlock shouts snapping me out of my trance. "Did I miss anything." I scanned the body again checking every detail over in my mind.

"Where is her suitcase?" I ask. John looks puzzled and for the first time I pitty him it must be difficult living with Sherlock and now im in the picture. "She has mud splatters up her left leg from something being dragged behind her and shes travelled from outside London like Sherlock said. If we find the case we could find a phone or something." I pause thinking. Sherlock's nodding me encouragingly, he hasn't thought of this yet I can tell.


	5. Chapter 5

"Could we hack her phone?" Sherlock nods smiling he's figured it John asks why. "If her attacker brought her here the suitcase was left in a car because the house is quite far away from anything, so if we find the phone we find the killer." I say explaining. "Sherlock." I shreak

"Yes." He says excited and annoyed by my sudden outbust he was used to being the center of attention but he liked the girls ideas she was smart maybe he had misjudged her abilities.

"The killer he or she's a cab driver. I mean think about it, who has access to grab people in plain sight."

Back at Backer street Sherlock was working on hacking the phone after he found the case dumped in the recycling centre. It was easy to find because it was bright pink like all the other items the lady owned. He had used her email adress to use the lady's phone finder app.  
"Got it." He sighed as he looked at the map on the screen with a dot to indicate were the phone was. John looked up then went back to his paper. "Where's Cara."

"She gone home." John answered. Sherlock looked around wondering if she was back yet and how long he had been in his mind palace but he didn't ask, he just went back to work.

As I walked along the paved side walk my mind was racing, I had just helped Sherlock and John solve a case 'kind of', and it felt great, better then watching the blood trickle down my arms. Maybe.

As I looked in a shop window I saw the reflection of a black car. I was being followed. Was it Sherlock keeping up with me. I didn't think so Sherlock wasn't one for safety or caring for that matter, he cared for John but not for me. I headed for a crowed aiming to loose the car but men in black two-piece suits had already got out and were tailing me with the car following. I turned sharply into an alley. Dead end. Shit. The men had seen me and were walking down the alley to catch me.

The first one recivied a punch to the head. Breaking my fingure, but knocking him out cold. The second man looked taken back looking at me, with cold eyes I stared back. Breaking his nose and rupturing his splean was an easy feet. I walked out from the alley. I should have checked for guards but I wasn't Sherlock Holmes, so I was stupid. The men had the blind fold and hand cuffs on me in a second and I was chucked into the back seat of the black car.

...Right. Left. Right. Right. Left. Right. Shit. I lossed count of the turns and twists of the maze of London's roads. But I knew we were still in London just the opposite side to when we started. I was lifted out of the car and the blind fold was removed. I was stood in a car parking lot with a chair and a very business like man in front of me. He wasn't sat down so I didn't use the chair even though he motioned for me to sit. I wouldn't give him power over me. "Sit" he said. His voice was deep yet soft very masculine, similar to Sherlock's. They were obviously related, Sherlock and this man, probably brothers. Not very close. Probably wanted Intel on his brother as some sick act of love. Would pay dearly for information as well, his suit was worth over a grand. So he had a good job, very secure if he had his own guards and was able to kidnap me. I was thinking Bitish government mabye secret service. It wouldn't surprise me, Sherlock's a bloody consulting detective. The man looked at me. "If it's any consultation both my men will be ok one has a concussion and they both have to stay at the hospital over night. I'm suprised you managed to take them down without a scratch." He looked at my shaking hand. "Would you like medical attention for your hand?"

"No... No I'll sort it." I said enjoying the sensation of blood running through my fingure. He nodded to a man in a suit who fetched a first aid box from his car and was walking towards me, he reached out to touch me. I had him on the floor in seconds, if i was lucky my hand would only bruise tonight. The man stared at me in shock. "I said no." I repeated as calmly as I first said it. Other men were running towards me but the man indicated he was fine with a flick of his wrist.


	6. Chapter 6

"I didn't know Sherlock's brother had so much power." I stated. The man stared at me clearly horrified by his straight ruged position, his face however stayed straight as he aloud me to continue. "I mean British Government." I guessed correctly as his posture straightened even more. "Sherlock must be so proud." It was a low blow but I had to distract him some how, I knew he and Sherlock were not close I could tell by the way he acted when I mentioned Sherlock, guilt and sorrow filled the mans eyes he couldn't stop that happening. I needed the time to plan my next move. But I was rudely interupted.

"My brother and I are not close but I suspect you already knew that, Cara. You are truly exstrodanery almost as good as Sherlock and I was at your age. You need to work on not attacking my men though. However I will overlook you recent violent behaviour as, fortunately for you, my brother brought us together and I need your help."

"Not interested" I said he opened his mouth but I interupted him this time "No figure will make me spy on Sherlock, he's helping me. And double crossing Sherlock Holmes is never a smart move Mr..."

""Mycroft. Mycroft Holmes."

"Right. Well then if that's over and done with I'll be off." I jumped into the back seet of the car. And asked the driver to take me home.

Mycroft stood dumbfounded. He'd never met anyone like him and Sherlock, and yet she was so young. However she was not completely ethier, a mix of all three, smart like Sherlock, stuborn like Mycroft and yet kind like John. Questions buzzed around his head and yet he couldn't answer them, this must be what it's like for John he thought. Who was Cara? Why was she hanging around with Sherlock? Why did she need his help?

As I returned home I realised that I had faced so much in just one day. My life had been completely turned upside down. And tomorrow I would have to face school again and my step parents and Sherlock Holmes and maybe even his stuck up older brother Mycroft. Shit. I was screwed. I barely survived today, and yet tomorrow, tomorrow will bring questions and theorys and answers I'm not ready to receive.

My phone pinged. The text read 'everything will be alright'.

When I woke up my mind started racing, I couldn't stop it it had been two days since the nightmare began. I still didnt know who sent me the text, Sherlock, John, Mycroft or someone else I was yet to meet. I needed to calm down but my parents had confiscated anything and everything sharp. They wouldn't even let me use the butter knife for God sake. Thats it I had to get our of here. I got dressed and wrote a note and was about to drop it off when I found my foster parents in the kitchen waiting for me. Shit. "Cara as you know your not going to school today. You have a week off to spend with your psychiatrist and get things back to as normal as possible. So I suggest you see him today since you spent the last two days doing nothing." Dexter said bluntly. I don't think they understood that things were never normal to begin with and the were never going back to the way things were.

"Ok" I said not wanting to cause any arguments "I'll get the bus to baker street."

"Not a chance young lady." Dexter argued. "Your getting a lift from me and i will meet with your phsychiatris to check your progress you spent almost 5 hours over there the first time talking." If only he new we spent obout 10 seconds in 221b before running out to solve a murder case.

The drive over to meet Sherlock was taken in stoney silance. I was never close to Dexter or Nora for that matter, and I didn't care. They weren't my parents, and they never would be. When we arrived at 221b I knocked three times with the horseshoe knocker straightening it onice I had finished. This time however John answered smiling at me and then looking up surprised. "Nice to meet you sir." John said hand out to shake as normal. Dexter took it almost smiling.

"Dexter." He replied shaking Johns hand in a firm grip. John didn't offer his name. Dexter looked down at me frowning "Well then Cara don't be rude. Introduce me to your phsychiatris."


	7. Chapter 7

"This isn't my psychiatrist. My psychiatrist is upstairs." John sighed before saying my psychiatrist was out and I could wait upstairs but that Dexter had to wait in the car because what happens upstairs is private and confidential. Dexter argued for a bit but John soon talked him down.

"Fine." He yelled "I'll go home then just like you planned." He stared at me and I stared back his icy glare held mine until he gave in and left.

I followed a shocked John upstairs were Sherlock was waiting. "Thank you for not letting him in." I nodded to John. "He gets a bit angry at times." I say shaking my head.

"It's ok" John smiled "my father was a drunk and abusive to me, he sighed, and my sister is now also a drunk. Fortunately for me I joined the army as a doctor so I could make something of myself. If you ever need to talk family I'm your man." He sighed. I was shocked I couldn't even tell John hid his past so well. I looked over at Sherlock who hadn't moved from his position, hands steepled under his chin eyes closed.

"Is he in his brain prison." I asked. John looked at me a worried look plastered on his face. "Oh. Sorry. A brain prison is were I store all useful information, and sometimes even memories." My face fell as I remember after my parents death when I was stuck in a coma unable to escape my brain prison. I sit down in Sherlock's chair legs crossed. John sat opposite me knowing I wanted to talk. In his own way John was as smart with people as Sherlock was with cases. He could read emotion as if it was a massive sign above your head. "My parants died in a car crash" I began to tell him my story, of how they picked me up after I had ran away because they found out about what I did to myself. They drove over a bridge and the car hit the water before I knew what was happening. My parents died on impact, but I survived, the doctors didn't believe the paramedics when they said I had pulled myself out of the car and swam to the river bank. They found me passed out and rushed me to hospital were my heart stopped and they put me on life support I was in a coma for two months, before they managed to wake me up. Every day I laid there reliving what had happened in my brain prison.

"Sherlock calls it his mind palace." John murmured after I had finished.  
I sighed to myself it must be good to have a palace and not a prison. It was almost an hour before Sherlock emerged from his mind palace. I decided to tell him about his brother.

"I met Mycroft last night." Instantly John and Sherlock's attention was on me. "He had a car tail me and two men kidnap me I gave one of them a concussion and the other a broken nose and ruptured spleen. Unfortunately they were two more waiting for me. When we arived I was met by your brother, who in a sick tempt to reconnect decided to offer me money to spy on you."

"Did you take it?" Sherlock asked. I answered with a no. "Pity we could have split the cash. Think it through next time." I smiled to myself.

"I'll try to bargin the price up." I giggled. " See how far he would go." John smiled at my genuine happiness. "What happened to the pink lady case?"

"Well we solved it. However not before John could shoot the killer in a heroic attempt to save me."

"He recons he didn't need my help. I think it's just because he got grumpy when lestrade made him wear a shock blanket and let press take photos of him." John said tears of laughter brimming in his eyes. Sherlock pulled a face and stormed off to make a cup of tea before slouching back and asking John how the kettle worked. I sighed, I needed more days like this filled with happy bickering and laughter.

 **A/N: Hi thank you so much for reading my fic. Please comment any questions or improvements you would like me to make and I will consider each one. In the next chapter I will be making some 'casualty' character reference. Tune in soon for you next chapter -GamerWolf156**


	8. Chapter 8

"Will you foster me?" I blurted out, my hands covered my mouth. John dropped his mug, Sherlock dropped the kettle, which sent boiling water everywhere, John wobbled hand landing in boiling water... And now we're sat in A and E where John is trying to teach the nurse how to bandage his hand probably, and Sherlock is, well Sherlock's trying to comfort John by doing everything. He bought him tea and took his coat and shouted at the nurse and got another cup of tea and then got a different nurse who he then scared off and now John is shouting at Sherlock while trying to bandage his own hand.

I slipped out of the room and decided to walk around a bit. Hospitals amazed me ever since I was young all the busy doctors. All the ill people rushing in and healthy people rushing out. I came upon a cubical with a tall looking doctor in holding a clip bord, his patient was a young man clearly in a drug haze.  
"You need to tell us what you've taken or we can't help you." He said. I quickly remembered the book on the side of Johns table, it was about drug overdoses and how each drug gave a different symptom. I studied the man who was chewing the inside of his cheek. M-cat.

"M-cat." I said suddenly. The doctor turned round and looked at me.

"What did you say?"

"M-cat, the man has overdosed on M-cat. I mean look at him he's sat there chewing the inside of his cheek. Get him on a fluid and flush it out of his system. He doesn't need any fast special treatment, he's on a drug haze for God sake." I replied.

"Yes. mmmm. Thankyou." The man replied. He held out his hand "doctor Keogh, and you are?"

"To young to be doing you job for you." I shook his hand. "Cara. My names Cara."

"Nice to meet you Cara. How old are you?" I told him I was 14. "And where did you aquire such medical knowledge from Cara."

"My psychiatrist companion was a army doctor, I read one of his books chapters called 'drugs and their symptoms' this morning." He asked me why I was here and I told him about the incident.

"Well Cara my colleges would be intrested in meeting you someone so young with so much potential. Have you ever thought about becoming a doctor? Can you stick around for a while, I need to get this patient sorted, and i could check on your friend if you want?" I told him that I wasn't in a rush and was greatful for his offer but my friend had already been seen twice.

"I can hang around though." I told him. I would be intrested in meeting your colleges." An hour later I was sat in reception observing everything from a far. Sherlock and John had left after I told them that I was meeting a doctor because he was intrested for me to train to become a doctor, or something like that. John told me to be careful and that I should go home straight after. I smiled and told him I would, all while frequently apologising for the incident. John said they was no real damage and that he and Sherlock needed to get back to the flat.

"Do you need my help?" A young nurse asked me.

"No thankyou staff nurse Freeman." I said poimting to her name tag. She smiled before asking me what I was doing. "I'm waiting for doctor Keogh." She looked at me stunned

"Yes well he should be on his break..."

"Now." Doctor Keogh finished for her, "thanks Rita I'll take it from here. So Cara, I have a patient I'd like you to help me with, a little test we'll call it to see if you are as clever as you have me believe." I smiled following him around the maze of patients and cubicles, until we landed near a young girl, who sat starring into space completely oblivious to our arrival. "What happened here?" He asked. I gulped scanning the breathing body. I see now why Sherlock prefers corpses.


	9. Chapter 9

"Shock." I said stupidly before regaining my composure. "Young female aged between 12-16." I said hello to her, spinning round I grab 's tourch and shine it into the patients eyes. "Visual responsive time slow. However puples diolate correctly" I say placing the small tourch back down on the side. Before touchind her legs. "Feeling of the left side of the body is less then on the right. I'd say she suffered trauma to the right side of the brain making her slightly numb on the left hand side, could have been a heart attack or more likely a stroke." I turn round to find a group of doctors gathered, mouths wide open in shock.

Dr Keogh was beaming at me "I told you she was clever." Rita stepped forwards towards me along side her stood a tall brown haired woman with a stern gaze. She was an outhority figure, but I could see straight through her tough act. She had a daughter just younger then me who was hard to manage, her and her husband had divorced he had moved on, but she hadn't, she looked forward to and stressed about her daughter's visits because she didn't want to disappoint her.

"Your a great docor Miss you shouldn't worry about your daughter's views on your life, she's not the boss of you." I said, my hands covered my mouth for the second time today. She looked at me stunned. "I'm so sorry." My brain swarmed with information, I needed a release. 'Let me out. Let me out. Out. Out. Out.' The voice in my head pounded. My vision blured and the room started spinning.

"Are you ok" I hear Dr Keogh say. "Cara" I hear him yelp as I fall to the ground and my world turned black.

"Jesus Cara don't you ever do that again" Jonh said as he sat at the side of my bed, Sherlock stood clearly uncomfortable. Dr Keogh was reading my vitals as I protested I was fine.

"You are fine Cara you have no head damage or internal bleeds we can see for all we know." Sherlock had taken keen intrested in Dr Keogh and was studying him from afar.

"Cara can we have a word." The stern woman said, I think she was head of department. Dr Keogh left but John and Sherlock, well mainly John refused to leave. "Well you made quite an impression Cara, Dylan, I mean dr Keogh told me you were only 14. Is this true." I nod at her. "Cara I know this is alot to ask of someone your age but I would like to offer you a few days working with us as a consultant. Would you like that."

I looked at John and Sherlock who nodded to say they agreed on the idea. "That would be wonderful. Ms Beacham. But I'm supposed to be working with my psychiatrist this week. My school deemed me... unfit." I say tring to fin the right word. She frowns at me so I start shaking.

"Cara whatever is a matter, your so bright and have a great future ahead of you why would you need a psychiatrist." Rita squeezes my arm telling me this is a safe room and whatever said in here is considered private.

"Because I'm Cara Light." I blurted out. Ms Beacham gasped she had obviously seen the newspaper artical.

"Jesus Cara, I'm so sorry, your bravery however is astounding."

"I don't want your pity or your praise." I say. "But I will take your offer. I can work any day this week."

John had hailed me a taxi and told it to drive me home before handing the cabbie £10 to fund expenses. I thanked him and told him id see him and Sherlock tomorrow.

As I was sat in the taxi on the way back home my phone pinged. 'our observations are your survival. M.' Who's M is it Mycroft. Why are they sending me texts. I decided to send one back. 'Who are you M." The reply was so quick it's like the person read my mind. 'A friend.'


	10. Chapter 10

A friend. I thought of what it would be like to finally have a friend. But why text me why not just come out and speak to me. Was this person like me did they see through everything and everyone. I needed to know I wanted to know. I didn't dare text my new friend again I would wait until they texted me, I could play the waiting game, a game intended for two.

I had told staff nurse Rita I could work every other day but she had decided to give me tomorrow off to recover and that I would start on Thursday, I realised that I could only work two days Thursday and Saturday. Maybe I could push Sunday in as well if they would let me, after Sunday it would be school and i didn't want to think about that.

I got home to a worried Nora and Dexter who looked pale and scared. The lady who worked at the chilrens care home was there. "Cara we can't cope anymore." That's all they said before I was whisked away back to the care home. Apparently the hospital had phoned up and told them I had fainted. I didn't think it was really that bad, but apparently it was. The care home had took my phone off me and i wasn't aloud out for one day so I could settle in. Shit. I would miss my appointment with Sherlock. However the care home had already thought of that and had appointed me a new psychiatrist for children who couldn't cope, basically it was their way if telling me I wasn't going to get fostered again because I was mentally unstable and cut myself to keep calm. What they didn't know was that I was coping fine until I was uprooted from my life and placed in a concrete box with windows where people throw unwanted kids into. Shit. shit shit shit. Shit. I couldn't live here with nothing to amuse my mind with id drive myself mentally insane. I went straight to bed, no help came, no inspirational message came from my friend, no help from Sherlock. John the one person I truly believed to be decent left me inside my own personal hell, my brain prison. For one fucking year two shit months and 23 hours, I knew I was counting.

"Cara are you going to talk to me. You've not said anything for two weeks now, your scaring us."

"I'm great just fine actually. I have no family. No friends. I'm failing school, but don't worry I'm doing fine in this concrete hell hole. You however are not doing so well, the spilt milk on your shirt came from one of those cheap milk cartons you get on trains meaning you had to rush out. Probably because you didn't go home last night you went to your ex-fiancé to 'finish stuff'. Your husband however thought you were working late, to bad you forgot to pick your daughter up from dance. Oh you forgot, yes well your husband didn't he picked her up after the instructer rang him. Unfortunately for you he drove past your ex's house and guess what your car was there. So yes thankyou for asking so far my brain is still working meaning I'm not dead so yes, I'm fine."

...

"Have you talked to Mycroft lately. " John asked Sherlock. "For God's sake Sherlock we can't leave her there any longer she's breaking, faster then I thought she would."

"There's nothing he can do, this is for the best John she's safe there, Moriarty he got to close. He was texting her John. If I hadn't have found out I wouldn't have been able to get her phone confiscated and Mycroft wouldn't have been able to disrupt the frequency blocking there connection. "

"I know but she's locked her self up. Both physically and mentally she's falling apart."

"What do you suggest we do John, she doesn't trust anyone!" Sherlock yelled. "Not even you."

"There is one person she trust's."

"Who...?"

...

"Cara you have a visitor." I turn over in my bed groaning at the frustration of moving my muscles. It had been a few days since I told my Psychiatrist about her 'issues' and as a consequence I had been put in quiet time, or safety lock down as it was known as to adults. Strictly no interaction until I had calmed down.

The Dr from the hospital John was at stood infront on me. "Dr Keogh what a pleasant suprise."

"Trust me when I say I don't do this for just anyone." He answered

"So who are you doing it for?" I asked

"A patient I have is suffering from a broken rib but she won't let us x-ray her because she's pregnant."

"Whats that got to do with me."

"Nothing, but the so called dad there says he's your 'friend'."


	11. Chapter 11

**Heads up Cara hasn't actually been in care ''** For one fucking year two shit months and 23 hours. **'' It just feels like that to her, in her deprived state. Also I'm not suggesting in anyway that care homes for children of any age are bad, but let's be honest there not perfect especially when you already know what it's like outside with your own family. *Dylan Keogh for** **those who don't know is a character out of Casualty, Google an image if you want to know what he looks like. BTW Sherlock and Moriarty know each other basically this is set after the whole pool scene. Anyway let us begin...**

The man stood tall, however his IQ and ego surpassed him. He new he was brilliant, but she... she was a needle in a planet of, well, idiots. Ever since that fight on that faithful night he had known, she would be the one to bring Sherlock Holmes to his knees.

As I walked through the hospital a sence of déjà vu hit me, why did I agree to this? As Dylan lead me through the rows of patents I realised how busy this place was. Why an earth had Dylan come all the way here to get me when he was needed here. John bloody Watson. That mans heart is to big, must have talked to the bloody queen. Mycroft Holmes, the most powerful man in the world, yada yada. Boring. Oooh look a scalpel that's sharp. As I was thinking I managed to walk straight into Dylan. Turning I saw a heavily pregnant woman on the bed, nothing exciting there just an over exaggerating mum to be, her partner however, tall masculine blond hair a lot like John his body language screamed military, however his calloused hand said he held a gun all day, impossible in the middle of London and yet it was their plain and simple, he wasn't police I could tell by his clothes was to formal for a police wage, or expensive for army pay. Hmmmm... this is fun, I had forgotten the thrill of the chase. I looked down his shoes were imaculate apart from some scuffs near the front of the soul, no mud or dirt suggested he didn't work on the streets but scuffs ment he didn't work on a smoothed floor office environment, clean but rough, clean and rough, roof, lots of tall buildings in London. Miltery training works on roof, sniper.

I cleared my throat, "You work im the army long? Why'd you get thrown out? Do you text me?"

"What the hell, my Sebby works as a roof fitter. Doctor who is this."

Dylan's face hardened, "get out Cara, I said no funny buisness."

"Nah doc it's fine" he said stepping forward he held out his hand, "Sebastian Moran, but everyone calls me Sebby. He winked at me. "Say kiddo, let doc handel Susie here, let's take a walk."

"Dont you want to stay, I'm supposed to talk her into having a x-ray."

"Doc 'll sort it c'mon kiddo."

Outside the hospital Sebastian told me I was spot on, but he didn't want anyone knowing, I asked him why but he just laughed and said I asked to many questions. "Sebastian Moran are you M"

"No, I work for him though."

"Who is he, and why is he been nice to me?"

Sebastian laughed again, "He's a very powerful man, called Jim, Jim Moriarty. He wants you to work for him, doing what you do, you know, guessing things, I was a test you see, to see if you could solve me. Jim has a lot of puzzles he wants you to solve."

"Like what?"

"Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Sorry. Sorry if it seems like I've been neglecting this. I have, I'm a bad person. But at least I'm getting this boring bit out of the way first. I hope I'll be able to write up sooner as I've just finished the other fic ive been working on, Elm 13,(look at me now shamelessly advertising another fic, ;) )**

 **Thank you for reading, following, and showing support to this story. Remember that comments keep me inspired, and might get me to work faster ;) -GamerWolf156. See you soon, hopefully. Enjoy my new chapter.**

"Jim has a lot of puzzles he wants you to solve."

"Like what?"

"Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes."

The two words rang in my ears like the after effects of an explosion. Never had I thought of solving Sherlock Holmes what an excellent opportunity to figure it out. All the mystery and unanswered questions about the man who's life was almost as messed up as mine if not more. All the way down to how he got John to be his friend, a friend to a person who has no friends. How excellent indeed. Quickly nodding to Sebastian I was handed a small piece of paper with the following instructions and message.

'Dear Cara, my name is Jim but you will know me as M, M indeed for Moriarty, suprise. Now we have been speaking for quite a while, I understand you are quite like me, and also like Sherlock. Sherlock probably hasn't told you about me but I am the closest thing Sherlock will ever have to a friend, an enemy. I asume, since you have basically been breathing the same oxygen with said Holmes brother you will have met John, John is of corse Sherlocks idea of a best friend. I simply cannot explain how ludicrous that sounds to me, I mean John is nothing but a pet to Sherlock, his redbeard is I dare say so...'

This Moriarty chap wasn't half full of him self, but through all his half-truths I could see he truly understood Sherlock as an individual, his tone almost made it seem impossible, and yet it was almost like he cared for the man. As I read through the letter, a continuous stream of useless garbage, I realised this man made sence, he was obviously mad, but so was Sherlock, and therefore once at the bottom I signed my signature and agreed to share my findings about Sherlock. He was of course a very interesting man.

Turning round I realised Sebastian was gone, replaced by two men in black overcoats, "this way ma'am" was all they said before I was placed in a car and a bag over my head, "to protect his location ma'am", for God sake here we go again.

 **Two weeks later**

Sherlock Holmes."

"Sherlock Holmes."

"Sherlock"

"Is it true... Mr Holmes."

"Mr Holmes."

"Where is she?"

"What did you do with her?"

Sherlock was gently guided back into 221b by a puffy eyed John. The reporter's had been harassing them for days and there was nothing to be done, even Lastrade couldn't force out the hoard of hungry reporter's to leave. Neither of them believe Lestrade even wanted to move them.

He did of course belive it was Sherlock's fault for the disappearance of that girl. He lied to the step-parents about been a psychiatrist, he brought her to crime scenes. Lestrade knew Sherlock wasn't particularly sane, but he brought a clearly confused and messed up kid, to a crime scene, with bodies. He shuddered at the thought at what was going through that poor girls head. All he knew was that they had to find her, they had to find Cara.

...

The man I saw before me, was almost the opposite of what I expected, he was almost the same as Sherlock, shorter, maybe more physically capable, and of course minus the curly hair, and you have Jim.

Jim Moriarty was a funny man, and not in the ha ha sence, well not all the time. His first task for me was to simply explain all I knew, it was a boring and long conversation, as, like the pair of men I had become aquatinted with, I was mentally well off, and could literally explain everything. Every detail from the day we met, to the day I knew Sherlock was following me. Jim was impressed, and kind. He told me I was exactly what he needed to get back into 'weaving his Web'. I didn't quite understand, but I knew it was important to my friend.

However a few days into our little arrangement and Jim became quite the opposite to when I'd met him. He seemed bigger and menacing and impatient. His anger and temper lasted longer and with such force. He even turned his anger towards me, I think that's when I finally snapped. "How dare you." I yelled

"How dare I?" Jim said in his cool, smooth voice. So calm it was more frightening then his yelling. "How dare you, coming in here, almost confident in my presence, you are nothing, do you here me nothing. No one cares for you. Not even Sherlocks pet could admire something as horrid as you."

It stung. His words had intended to hurt me, but I felt something else. A gap. If Moriarty wasn't my friend then who did I really have. I'd helped him prepare for the downfall of Sherlock. If I intended to have any life whatsoever I needed to take action now.

I smacked Jim Moriarty.

He almost looked shocked. Made me wish I had a photo. Shame.

"Your going to regret that." He said then nodded.

Blackness.

...

Sherlock Holmes."

"Sherlock Holmes."

"Sherlock"

"Is it true... Mr Holmes."

"Mr Holmes."

"Where is she?"

"What did you do with her?"

The voices were muffled, and the sounds in my head were reduced to quited buzzing. 'Hmph Sherlock' I thougt. What happened. My tummy hurt. I couldn't think, I smiled weakly, must be like John. I inhaled deeply, instant regret, my ribs killed. Think. T-H-I-N-K. This wasn't natural. Toxic. Poison, yes poison. That was logical. I need to eat something. Anything. I moved my hand. Slower. Everything hurt. Ohh found something. Chocolate?

"Hello." Feet stomped around. More then one. And lights shone throughthe darkness.

"Cara." John? Took you long enough. I stiffened at the thought of seeing Sherlock. No. No I don't want to. What have I done.


End file.
